"Do you think, then, I shall be more inclined to take it if I see it again?"
"It's quite possible," she laughed; "but I haven't any real hopes of that. I expect when you make up your mind, it's not easy to get you to alter your destination."
"You mean determination," said I.
"Well, it's the counterpane thing," said she.
I asked leave to be amused. I felt my sides shaking. Bless her heart, for she laughed with me too. I suppose she knew she had said something very funny.
"Isn't it counterpane?" she asked, for her laughter was not quite so hilarious as mine. There was the tentative note of query in it. In mine was the whole-hearted acceptance of the fact. "What ought I to have said then?" she went on, while I sat down upon the grass. "I suppose I ought to have said—counterfoil?"
I groaned. "Oh, don't!" said I.
"Well, what is it?" she cried, helplessly.
"You wanted to say counterpart," I replied; "and even then you'd have been wrong."
"I think English is a ridiculous language," she declared, at which we laughed all over again. "Well, will you come to the cottage?" she added, presently.